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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27837025">exile</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/poeticandvaguelysweet/pseuds/poeticandvaguelysweet'>poeticandvaguelysweet</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The 100 (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Pre Season 1, Young Kabby</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:28:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,543</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27837025</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/poeticandvaguelysweet/pseuds/poeticandvaguelysweet</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Young and in love, Abigail Walters and Marcus Kane find a spare minute to bask in each other ... until she reveals something that doesn't go down as expected.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Abby Griffin &amp; Marcus Kane, Abby Griffin/Marcus Kane</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>exile</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Fen has this drawing on Twitter that I stare at all the time and once tried to write a fic because it moved me so much. I can't seem to finish it so you can have the first bit and suffer with me.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was dark in the small assigned room Marcus Kane called home. The light was rarely on as he was hardly ever in there enough to warrant using the switch beside the door. The space was designed this way as life in the guard was an unforgiving one. He barely had time to sleep and shower most days let alone take the small amount of personal time he was allegedly allotted. What free time he managed to worm out of a tireless schedule was spent with Abby. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her smile lit up his tiny quarters, her laugher the only thing he needed as they lay in bed basked in starlight, thankful for the personal time away from the noise of the Ark. He found his room cramped, too small to be appropriately used but Abby loved it. Anything that spelled freedom was a luxury to her. Abby was destined to share her parents bunk until she finished her studies or married, and their overbearing nature made her feel as if she was a marionette only there to live and breathe as they instructed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He considered proposing just to buy them both a little more space, but she was only nineteen and although pressure was mounting, being from Alpha saved her from the occasional desperate need to lock down the right person. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What made her happy made him happy and if Abby was content in stealing hours naked in the silver light of his space-lit closet, then he was content to lie there with her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘What did you do?’ She asked, voice soft, caught in the trance of post-coitus pillow talk. Her hand roamed his face, the other cupping the back of his neck, thumb stroking the skin behind his ear while her other fingers curled in his hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘What did </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> do?’ He echoed, hand sliding up the curve of her bare spine. ‘You’re the training medic, why don’t you tell me?’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her finger stilled its delicate movement at the bridge of his nose, hovering there, contemplating his statement. She rolled her eyes, lids fluttering as her lips curled into a fond smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I know you broke it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>How </span>
  </em>
  <span>did you break it?’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marcus half shrugged with his body caught beneath hers. ‘Talk to Jake Griffin.’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pushed herself up, one hand heavy on his chest, the other taking the bulk of her weight beside his shoulder. ‘Why are you deflecting? I’m just trying to learn something about you, Marcus.’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘It’s a sore spot.’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘No shit.’ She huffed, staring him down as he averted his gaze somewhere else in the darkness of his room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘My nose is bad enough; we don’t need to talk about it being broken on top of that.’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I love it.’ He snapped his gaze back to her a mixture between disbelief and irritation sliding across his features. ‘What? It’s strong … bold. It has character.’ She lowered her chest back down to his, fingers sliding across his face once again as his hands wound around her waist, keeping her there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘It’s too big, too loud … crooked doesn’t make it any better.’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘It’s noble.’ Her fingers tracked another path down his wretchedly curved nose, eyes shimmering in the light. She was watching him with something akin to devotion, an emotion Marcus couldn’t quite place without feeling a jolt of fear, but with Abby it washed over him in an intimate relief. ‘I hope our baby inherits your nose.’ She was quiet, contemplative, her teeth sliding into her bottom lip, wearing at the skin there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marcus groaned, rolling his head away from her for a second before he laughed. ‘Good thing Chancellor McGibbon is pushing that birth regulation proposal. No kid deserves this.’ His hand fluttered over his face, Abby trying to tap it away, fighting with his want to conceal the offending feature. That hadn’t been entirely the point with McGibbon’s new proposal, it wasn’t so much about physical characteristics, but choosing the right parents who had the time and attention to raise their children. He was in the guard, Abby had just secured a lucrative position as a medical trainee, if children were something that they wanted he was doubtful they would be approved. Two demanding jobs did not a happy family make. Or so McGibbon’s was trying to push. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Hey,’ Abby held his gaze, grip tight on his hands as she held them, one against his chest, the other on his cheek. ‘I love you.’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I love you too.’ He responded; the words impossible not to return. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I love your strong, noble, crooked nose.’ She punctuated each word with a kiss one to the tip of his nose, his cheek, his eyelids. He rolled his eyes but didn’t move, a small smile pushing at his lips at how ridiculous this was, how silly to be self-conscious of something his she admired so reverently. His eyes closed, fluttering against her soft touch as he felt her breath against his cheek, her nose brushing his. ‘Marcus, I’m pregnant.’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The whole Ark stilled in its orbit, the oxygen scrubbers stopped completely, the remnants of air felt like it was being sucked out of the room. He blinked once, twice; his hand slipped free from hers to find her cheek. This was real, she was still there, still breathing above him. ‘Abby …’ He breathed, finally stuttering air into his lungs. She nodded, a smile pulling at her lips. ‘No … You’ll lose your med placement.’ Her smile dropped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two students every five years got the chance to work under the current practicing Ark medical team. It was competitive and cutthroat. Students had to be at the top of their studies, studious and committed to practicing medicine. He had heard rumours floating around that they often didn’t take applicants in relationships as it was believed that would be a distraction to the intern. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abby worked her ass off to be considered despite the fact that her father was the head of medical. He didn’t go any easier on her application because she was his flesh and blood. She earned that position, fought hard for it, the study stress alone nearly fractured what they had. If she was pregnant––really truly, not fucking with him, pregnant––she could lose her place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abby recoiled, pulling herself away from him as she tried to sit up, tugging the blanket with her. ‘Marcus,’ she tried to laugh, the sound coming out jaded, scared, suddenly unsure of herself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘You’re kidding, right?’ He asked, softly, mirroring the fear in her voice. Abby shook her head, teeth in her bottom lip, tears brimming in her eyes. ‘You worked so hard for this. Your dad––he’s not going to change things for you. You … you wanted to be a doctor.’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I still do!’ Her rebuttal was wet as she curled in on herself, knees drawn up to her chest, her body miles away from his on the bed. ‘I’m already in.’ She tried to laugh but it came out manic, unsure. ‘I can––I will work hard. You know I will. My dad knows I will. I can do this.’ Her voice broke, eyes darting around the room, searching for an escape.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She salvaged a shirt, hanging in a tangled mess off the side of the bed, tugging the blankets with her as she inched towards her jeans elsewhere on the floor. ‘I thought,’ she was trying to hold the tears at bay, refusing them despite their presence. Abby shook her head. ‘I thought you would be happy––‘ she snorted ‘––supportive’. A single silver coloured tear ran down her cheek, the light no longer romantic as Marcus sat there stunned and grey. ‘Oh my god.’ She muttered to herself, tugging denim up her legs. ‘I’m so stupid.’ In the dark she used his tiny mirror to fix her hair and flick away a stubborn errant tear, buying herself and Marcus some time before everything slid into a cruel, unerasable reality. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘That’s all you’re going to say?’ She asked, having held her breath for long enough. She stood in front of him, the only place she could stand in the small room, Marcus himself sat upright, naked in his own bed, one sock still on his foot, his hair a mess from their previous joyful activity. She wanted him to smile, cocky and charming, to reach his arms out to her and pull her back into bed. She wanted to dream about the future they could have, the two of them and their baby in the same way that she had dreamed in the nights before she told him. She was so sure this would have gone differently. Now she felt stupidly naïve. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘What are you going to do?’ The question doused her in cold water. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Me?’ She gasped at him; finger pointed at her own chest. ‘I didn’t do this to myself, you know.’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked down, staring at the dark floor by her feet, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. ‘Did you plan this?’ His words were a punch to the gut. Her hand closed around a glass on his small desk as rage filled her, flinging it towards him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Fuck you.’ The glass hit his shoulder but didn’t break, only fell into his lap and rolled onto the floor. </span>
</p><p> </p>
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